


blue's hoonsuk drabble collection

by teumefromthesea (itsbluexx)



Category: TREASURE (Korea Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Lifeguards, Alternate Universe - Marriage & Divorce, Alternate Universe - McDonald's Staff meets Rich Guy LMAO, Angst, Canon Compliant, Crack, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Pre-Slash, Suicide Attempt, Swearing, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28170420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsbluexx/pseuds/teumefromthesea
Summary: A collection of unrelated HoonSuk drabble taken place in different alternate universes and/or canon settings, first posted on Twitter.Contents:1. [Salaryman x Lifeguard AU] Ocean Talks2. [Canon Compliant] Pollution3. [Marriage AU] Battlecry4. [McDonald's Staff x Rich Guy AU] The Mop Man5. [Canon Compliant] The Map6. [Canon Compliant] ValentineRead each drabble beginning notes for the warning tags.
Relationships: Choi Hyunsuk/Park Jihoon
Comments: 6
Kudos: 66





	1. [Salaryman x Lifeguard AU] Ocean Talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Salaryman x Lifeguard AU ]
> 
> warning tags;  
> \- vague description of suicide attempt  
> \- depression implied
> 
> first posted on December 4, 2020.

Hyunsuk asks the ocean to swallow him.

Sands tickling his feet, 6AM breeze brushes his pearl skin; Hyunsuk stands at the edge of a beach where sea water kisses the golden shore, a love story Hyunsuk never, and will ever experience in his short life.

Eyes red from the lack of sleep and will to board a train home and back to his nine-to-five jobs and dull routine that never fails to make him feel like a mannequin; hollow and identical to thousands of others.

So Hyunsuk stays and have a dialogue with the ocean instead.

How are you, Hyunsuk asks in his mind, wishing the vast of blue in front, or someone, asks him that too.

Asks why he's distant and disconnected to the world around, or why he choose solitude over weekend meet-ups, or why he's turning off his phone on a Friday.

But there's no reply;

the ocean doesn't care for it is cold and mute and ready to take Hyunsuk or anyone with a broken soul to its embrace.

But Hyunsuk has made up his mind from the moment he discarded his shoes, gray blazers, and suitcase on the sidewalk earlier.

Hyunsuk watches the water under his feet; little waves caressing the skin, seducing the lost man to come closer, and closer,

until the yellow-tinted sky above replaced by a pool of darkness, hugging Hyunsuk tight until he's airless.

So Hyunsuk heaves a breath, one of his last, and brings his feet forward to heed the ocean's call,

until another, a human's, rings--

"Hey!"

A hand latches on Hyunsuk's right arm roughly, jolting and stopping the dazed man on time.

Hyunsuk turns, slowly, to find a man, taller than him, with ashen-green hair, bangs parted in the middle, scowling.

"I said, where's your swimsuit?" The man asks, annoyed.

Hyunsuk blinks, before he notices the whistle around the man's neck and the matching red jacket and sweats, then it dawns to him; oh, he's a beach lifeguard.

"We have strict rules around here, no getting into the water without a proper suit, or before 7," The guard explains, half-scolding, though the grip on Hyunsuk's arm becomes less tense, he notices.

Hyunsuk absent-mindedly nods, deep down trying to figure out if the stranger is real or an illusion one would see as he drowns.

"I'm sorry, I don't know."

"Yeah, you're not a local, are you? I never see you before," The guard studies Hyunsuk from top to bottom like an opened book.

"You're going for a swim?" The guard asks, such a harmless question if only directed not to Hyunsuk.

His heart jumps; nervous and guilty at the same time. Hyunsuk avoids the scrutinising gazes of the other and bits his lips, afraid the other will see through his transparent lies if he speaks.

So he ducks his head down and keep quiet.

Hyunsuk observes the millions grains of sand below his feet and how each one of them is more solid than his resolve to see tomorrow.

Sounds of crashing wave,

Caws of seagulls,

Gusts of cold wind, before--

A hand pulls him away;

away from the ocean and the darkness and the muffled room without sounds and oxygen.

Hyunsuk yelps in protest as he stumbles in his steps, trying to keep up, "Hey!"

"Shut up," But the lifeguard snarls back, "You've trespassed, we're gonna go to my office now."

"Wait, I can explain--"

The guard stops and turns around to confront Hyunsuk. His hand still claws on Hyunsuk's wrist; big, strong, and warm, unlike Hyunsuk who's most days feels like a walking corpse.

Hyunsuk gulps, stammering, "I-- I just want to see the ocean."

"Well, the ocean doesn't want to see you."

Hyunsuk frowns, "How do you know that?"

But the guard simply scoffs, cocking an eyebrow at the smaller man, "What do you mean 'how do I know that', I'm its lifeguard. The ocean here is a friend, and it told me about you."

Eyes sharp as eagles; Hyunsuk cowers underneath them. He mumbles, timidly, "What does it told you?"

For a moment, the guard doesn't answer, only curling his lips and stare at Hyunsuk, before he sighs quietly and says,

"It said you're sucks for not following the beach rules--"

Hyunsuk raises his eyebrows in surprise, not expecting the answer.

"--and it asked me to get you and makes sure you'll never come back again."

The guard nods toward the horizon, making Hyunsuk turns around as well, watching the endless blue, shimmering under morning rays,

captivating, yet lethal.

A jerk of a hand pulls him again; the guard picks up his pace and strides to cross the empty beach.

"Hey--"

"Your clothes and suitcase are all in the office, too," The guard adds, nonchalantly, though it manages to make Hyunsuk flinches as he realizes the man has put all the pieces together.

But even if he did, he chooses to feign ignorance, at least for now.

"Also, you're fined with littering. Just so you know."

Hyunsuk sighs, rubbing his temple with a hand that's not being seized by a responsible citizen of the city.

Then--

"What's your name?"

The sudden question startles Hyunsuk, but the guard keeps his head straight forward, hiding whatever expression he wears.

Hyunsuk, feeling quite shy, strangely, can only mumbles a reply, "It's Hyunsuk."

The guard hums.

"I'm Jihoon."

Jihoon, Hyunsuk repeats in his mind, wanting to remember the name of the man who saved him,

and the ocean.

Jihoon probably doesn't want his friend to be sad, that's why he came.

Somehow the thought brings a smile to Hyunsuk's sullen face; imagining the lifeguard, loud and cranky, yapping all day long at the empty air of the ocean.

Similar to Hyunsuk's earlier try, but he envisions their talk is much lighter and lively.

What a weirdo, Hyunsuk thinks as his smiles grows wider. He wonders if he ever going to be like Jihoon, fun and brimming with life.

"You've eaten yet?"

Without knowing, they're on the sidewalk now, standing on asphalt instead of sands.

Hyunsuk shakes his head, not today or last night.

"Good. We can talk about the cost of your fines over breakfast then, Hyunsuk-shi."

The guard, Jihoon, cracks a thin smirk, before turning toward a direction and guides the two of them.

Hyunsuk takes a glimpse of the ocean one last time.

The mesmerising view it holds and the abyss it hides;

Today onwards, Hyunsuk promises to stop having a dialogue with the ocean in exchange for a talk, a call, a message,

with a loud, grumpy lifeguard who not once,

let his hand go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Carrd](https://teumefromthesea.carrd.co/) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/teumefromthesea) | [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/teumefromthesea)


	2. [Canon Compliant] Pollution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Canon Compliant ]
> 
> warning tags; none
> 
> first posted on December 12, 2020.

Jihoon's jealousy pollutes the air;

tainting it with smoke, black as charcoal, thick as blood, choking every throat and lung present in the room, and when no walls can contain the heavy air and raw emotions, it cracks through bricks and glass, tearing buildings and soiling skies until the city turns dead grey.

So just like a smoker, when Jihoon is jealous, everyone can feel it, breathe it--

everyone, except himself.

"Jaehyuk-shi."

The voice that came out of Jihoon's mouth is not his own but another; bearing the same face as Jihoon, wearing the same white tee and jeans jacket, holding the same position as leader of Treasure, but the voice belongs to another man, blinded by petty envy, blind to himself.

"You sit here," The man orders, short and sharp, pointing to a vacant chair on Doyoung's right.

Jaehyuk finally sniffs the pollution and gulps, nervous. He hides from Jihoon's cold stare under his black cap as he moves from Hyunsuk's shoulders to a safer place. 

Instantly, Jihoon's posture becomes less stiff, less frowns, displayed by the wide TV screen in front as it broadcasts their Vlive. Jaehyuk notices, so do the rest of the members but they keep quiet, as always, and watches the younger leader rests a hand on Doyoung and another on Hyunsuk--

subtly and unconsciously, staking a claim.

From who, who knows, since as far as Jaehyuk's knowledge each member loves Hyunsuk as an older brother and half-mother, nothing more.

And yet Jihoon's left hand still lays on the eldest fluffy sweaters; feathery touches and quick brushes, and Jaehyuk is convinced Hyunsuk, as sensitive and grounded as he is, isn't as ignorant as the other leader when it comes to feelings, so it's no wonder if the smaller man welcomes Jihoon's affectionate gestures with open arms and closed giggles.

After all, the leaders are two peas in a pod; both in duties and heart, if only the oblivious one knows.

Jaehyuk sighs, tired of being an insignificant debris in space as Jihoon continuously ignores the universe around him and gazes at Hyunsuk, full of unspoken longing, like a distant planet to a sun.

He can only pray Doyoung ends Hyunsuk's made-up excuses about how the helmet looks like a cheap knock-off of Jackson Pollock's painting sooner than later.

When the time finally has mercy on Jaehyuk, the producer signals Treasure to says their goodbye and ends the broadcast. The young boys give their last cheers and waves before the TV screen blinks dark.

Jaehyuk stands up and readies to go, stomach already grumbling for a second time, craving some snacks, when Hyunsuk's voice rings beside him. The lion cub turns his head slightly as he watches the leader's exchange in discreet.

"Jihoonie," Hyunsuk calls when Jihoon is half-way across the room. The eldest is still seated on his rotating chair.

Jihoon pauses and turns around, "Yes, hyung?"

"You're feeling okay?"

Like a spell, the question draws Jihoon back, feet slowly moving toward the caster even though Jihoon can just answer it on the spot. Jaehyuk muffled a snort.

Jihoon shrugs, one hand shoved to his jeans pocket, "Yes, sure. What's the matter?"

Hyunsuk doesn't buy it, only keep his gazes steady at Jihoon, wanting the real answer buried under layers of skin and fat and emotion. But the other simply tilts his head, confused. Jaehyuk almost does the same, though frustrated.

Finally, Hyunsuk surrenders. He heaves a quiet breath. The eldest chews his lips for a bit before shaking his head, mumbling, "Nothing. Just wanna make sure you're not too down Doyoung didn't pick your helmet."

Jihoon snickers, "You mean, our helmet. You're a big help, Assistant Choi."

"I know. You gotta pay me for my hard work. I did clean your mess and sacrifice my favorite sneakers," Hyunsuk pouts adorably for a 22 years-old man.

The sight is like honey to Jihoon as the younger leader quickly averts his gaze aside, too sweet for his eyes. He presses his lips tight, seemingly thinking, definitely stalling, before clearing his throat and replies,

"I treat you for dinner? But only you. The kids can buy their own."

Hyunsuk flashes a grin, "Sure!"

Jihoon grunts, lowering his gazes to the wooden floor. He's shy, Jaehyuk knows, Hyunsuk can be too bright for one to handle. But Jaehyuk also knows the eldest is watchful and determined to get what he wants so Hyunsuk hooks a hand under Jihoon's right arm and guides him out of the room. Jihoon falters in his steps at first before pulling himself together and follows the other's rhythm.

The leaders chatter loudly, through the agency hallway and into the small restaurant they booked. Other members join, serving laughs and jokes on top of rice bowls and beef slices.

Jihoon barks a laugh then a cough, almost choke in his own spit, before Hyunsuk, seated next to him -close until their elbows touch- pats his back, comforting and chuckling amused. Jihoon slips a grin, too wide, too happy, and it creates a merriness the group's familiar with.

Again, Jaehyuk, can only sigh.

Because while his jealousy brings pollution, Jihoon's love brings freshness;

like mountain air, fresh and chill, as it fans the smokes and dust out and replaces it with the sweet aroma of flowers and grass and happiness condensed into thin smiles and stolen glances in midst of rowdy boys on a dinner table,

as time slows down, like a focused lens everything aside from the leaders are a blur and Jaehyuk sees Jihoon who sees Hyunsuk with adoration and want to caress his cheeks or lips--

but if only Jihoon would keep on looking and not flicker away so he can also catch a moment

when Hyunsuk

stares back.

So just like wearing a perfume, when Jihoon is in love, everyone can feel it, breathe it, even Hyunsuk--

everyone, except himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Carrd](https://teumefromthesea.carrd.co/) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/teumefromthesea) | [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/teumefromthesea)


	3. [Marriage AU] Battlecry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Marriage AU ]
> 
> warning tags;  
> \- minor character death referenced  
> \- aged-up characters  
> \- swearing  
> \- alcohol usage implied
> 
> first posted on December 13, 2020.

There is a fight-- where silence is the weapon.

It takes place between two men, seated in the corner of an empty cafe at one in the morning where the only audience is an overworked employee behind the counter, one yawn away from sleep, and a midnight rain,

a drizzle, as its drops decorate the window, forming shiny little beads, reflected from the yellow light inside the cafe.

Hyunsuk follows a drop when more water stream from above, breaking one bead as it trickles down the clear surface. Its reflection overlays Hyunsuk's, akin to a streak of tear on a forlorn face, as he stares blankly through the glass at the silver pavement outside and the flickering street lamps in a suburban alley.

A sigh; coming from the man across Hyunsuk, skimming a stack of papers they both know the content of.

Jihoon, wearing a white long sleeve t-shirt; his caramel-colored Balmain coat hanged on the back of his seat, a gift from Hyunsuk on his 30th birthday years ago. It's a couple item, but Hyunsuk forgot to bring his own, too deep in his thoughts until his black blazer was drenched from the downpour outside.

But Hyunsuk pays no mind to his damp clothes; he pays no mind at nothing but sadness buried within.

Hyunsuk flickers his weary eyes at Jihoon, catching a glimpse of the gold ring dangling on the other's chest. Now he wears it as a necklace, a memento of what they were before.

Hyunsuk grits his teeth, hard, repressing a snort;

what a useless sentimentality, Hyunsuk mocks mentally, when he already threw his own damn ring at the river on the way here. 

Another sigh, before Jihoon finally puts down the papers and speaks, irritated, "We're not gonna get anything done here if you're being silent all the time."

Hyunsuk immediately bites back, snarling, "What do you what me to say?"

Jihoon scoffs, throwing the paper at the table right in front of Hyunsuk, "I don't know, how about accepting my earlier suggestion and call your ass of a lawyer about my visiting time--"

"You already get a full weekend with Doyoung, what more do you want?"

"I just told you what I want! I wanna pick him up from school three days a week--"

"I can do that just fine--"

"Can you stop interrupting me when I'm talking?"

Hyunsuk scowls but keeps his mouth shut; fingers tapping impatiently on the table.

There are two empty cups between the men, once filled with coffee; one black, another with three blocks of sugar and a spoon of cream. Yes, Hyunsuk still remembers Jihoon's preference even though they live apart since four months ago.

Jihoon doesn't like bitter things, or alcohol or cold fights, that's why he's angry right now, creasing his eyebrows as low as he can, glowering at Hyunsuk for a full minute before clicking his tongue.

"This is your problem," Jihoon starts again, rubbing his temple; eye bags sunken low from three nights with little sleep, "You never hear what I said, you're too stubborn--"

"And you were too busy--" Hyunsuk raises his voice too loud, jolting the half-awake employee in surprise, but Hyunsuk doesn't care, this is their battle, "--with work and karaoke bars to forgot about your kid's basketball practice--"

"I was under my boss' order, I had no choice, you know that--"

"--and let him go home alone and-- and," Suddenly Hyunsuk lips, voice, eyes quiver of cold and ache, as memories of sorrow come like a blizzard, chilling him to the bone and breaking his heart.

An image of a boy flashes Hyunsuk's mind; brown hair and brown eyes, grinning as the boy pulled Hyunsuk and his older brother, Doyoung, to take a selfie together one Sunday afternoon.

Even after the crash, the photo, along with his phone, was intact, but the boy--

was not.

Hyunsuk sinks his face to his palms, holding his breath, holding his cry, holding himself together and trying not to play the painful recollection from minute one and find the root cause of everything. Something to blame, someone to fault. Because if he does, then--

"He called you and you didn't answer."

Hyunsuk hears Jihoon but he wishes he didn't. He wishes the drizzle outside turns into a hailstorm; shattering glasses, bringing the cafe down, and claims both of them so Hyunsuk can see his son, once more.

But there's no storm, only Jihoon, uttering words like venom, it hurts Hyunsuk, "We all saw from Junghwan's history call--"

"Stop saying his name--" Hyunsuk croaks out, lifting his weary face, but Jihoon still continues, damn him.

"--he called you after he called me, but we both didn't answer," Jihoon takes a sharp breath, clenching his trembling hands before pointing a finger at Hyunsuk, accusing, "I was with my boss, and you were with that-- that jerk who doesn't stop texting you even though you're a married man of two children for fifteen fucking years--"

"He was in town and he brought gifts--"

"And I hope that gifts are worth of Junghwan's life--"

Hyunsuk slams his palms at the table, "I said, stop saying his name!"

"Why?! He was my son!"

"He was mine too!!"

A scream from a grieving heart; Hyunsuk pants a harsh breath, eyes glimmer from unshed tears but glaring dangerously at Jihoon. The other does the same; the fight is still ongoing, but what is the prize, Hyunsuk ponders, because in the end,

he still loses both his child and husband.

Jihoon throws his gaze away, reminiscing a moment full of cookies and round cheeks as his boy munched and munched and thanked his dad.

Jihoon closes his eyes, exhaling a breath, "He's gone, Hyunsuk-shi. We have to accept that and move on--"

But Hyunsuk shakes his head -stubborn, Jihoon is right- as he denies reality, "I can't, I can't--"

"You have to!"

Hyunsuk yells, frustrated, "I can't, you heartless bastard!"

But Jihoon screams back, "You think I'm okay with this?! You're not the only who lost Junghwan--"

"And I'd rather lose you than lose him!!"

The drizzle stops, so does Jihoon's heart,

for a moment,

as he stares at Hyunsuk, dejected and in agony, hearing knife in form of words, stabbing his heart until it bleeds, as if the past months it hasn't suffered enough already.

But Hyunsuk can't help it, as his lips, pouty and red, Jihoon used to say he loves it, but now it trembles scared and raged and turning Hyunsuk into the worst version of himself.

But this is a fight, so anything is fair.

The men lower their heads, let silence suffocate each other again until one of them waves a white flag and ends their night, postpone their battle until the next day.

"It's late," It's Jihoon this time, last week it was Hyunsuk, after an hour of screaming at each other's faces before he broke a vase.

"We'll talk later," Jihoon murmurs as he stands up and walks to a cashier to pays their bill. Hyunsuk doesn't comment on it, he's too tired, simply playing with the ripped of his soaked jeans.

The cold catches up, Hyunsuk shivers a little.

"Where's your coat?"

Hyunsuk doesn't look up, doesn't offer an answer either. No anger nor sadness left, only a need to sleep and forget the years he spent with Jihoon through one bottle of whiskey stocked at his apartment.

Then--

a warmth, blanketing Hyunsuk from shoulder to knees below, as Jihoon drapes his coat on the smaller man, big and packed with distant memories of the two of them laughing and their kids staining Jihoon's face with the cream of the birthday cake before Hyunsuk kissing them clean, tasting the sweetness and love.

Hyunsuk lets out a gasp, protesting, "I don't want it--"

"Good night," But Jihoon already turns around; long legs cross the deserted cafe and pushes the glass door. The cafe's bell rings; signaling a goodbye.

Hyunsuk stays still, watching the blank spot Jihoon once occupied,

in the cafe and his life.

Hyunsuk grips the coat tighter so it envelops his body,

pretending there is no fight waiting for him in days ahead,

pretending tonight is his last battle cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Carrd](https://teumefromthesea.carrd.co/) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/teumefromthesea) | [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/teumefromthesea)


	4. [McDonald's Staff x Rich Guy AU] The Mop Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ McDonald's Staff x Rich Guy AU ]
> 
> warning tags;  
> \- swearing
> 
> first posted on December 17, 2020.

Jihoon is a simple man with simple needs.

He has one goal in his life and that is to be rich enough to own shit; first a house, then a car, then a family, all that jazz. He has no time for short-term love because he prefers long-term objectives and so far, none from his list is checked as he still lives alone in the worn-down apartment next to a station, the kind of place where his glass of milk would tremble every time a train passes by.

That's why when his manager, a middle-aged man with a beard and a bloated stomach similar to Bay Max, asks Jihoon to cover both day and night shift for a whole month, starting tonight, he immediately says--

"Yes, sure, absolutely, sir."

His manager nods, a few times, either satisfied with Jihoon's answer or drowsy as the clock's hand in the manager's office points at 10 PM, "Sorry for the short notice, the other employee was rushed to the hospital earlier. It seems only yesterday she told me she's pregnant and now, her water suddenly broke! Ha ha ha!"

Jihoon follows the awkward laugh with ease, "Ha ha ha!" even with the same intonation. He's a pro at putting on a happy face and licks people's asses, nothing special, he's sure every working-class citizen can relate.

The manager gives him a thumb up and a promise to doubled his usual salary for the next month before Jihoon bows and exits the room.

Opening his locker, Jihoon puts on orange latex gloves and tighten a black apron around his waist. He makes sure to leave no buttons unbutton as he checks himself in the mirror.

Light pink hair, smooth and tidy under a black cap, with a grey employee shirt and washed-out jeans. He practices his eye smiles, wide and friendly as Ronald McDonald, company rules, before closing the locker and grabs his equipment.

Jihoon is spectacular in his job, every McDonald's employee of the branch knows, especially when it comes to hygiene. Nobody cleans like Jihoon, nobody can make wooden floor gleams like marbles with a thorough mop like Jihoon.

The man drags a wheeled bucket on one hand and a mop with a red handle on another, then starts wetting the second floor of the building, more deserted than the first. Only two couples present, seated by the window glass, overlooking the city at night and falling snow in December.

It's nice labor that Jihoon actually enjoyed. His job doesn't force him to interact with customers, just occasional smiles every time some pass him by, and most importantly, it pays well-- so well Jihoon reckons early next year he can finally move out to a new apartment far from train noises and people's chatters. Maybe somewhere quiet in a well suburban complex near a children's park.

Ah, even just the thought already puts a smile on Jihoon's face. Excited as he is, the man mops the floor with more vigor than ever until it's glimmering clean under the lights.

Mop, mop, mop.

Now the second floor is done, Jihoon moves to the bathroom, the men's first.

But when he opens the door, the mop man quickly stops in his steps. His ears pick up a sound, of someone--

sobbing in one of the bathroom stalls.

Jihoon grimaces in disbelief, it's almost one in the morning and there's a man crying in McDonald's bathroom?

Some might give pity, some might leave him alone, but Jihoon does neither of those because he has zero patience and a double salary to earn.

So Jihoon does what he does best; he mops.

And he does it unnecessarily noisy, just to make his presence known to the sobbing man inside the stall.

Jihoon splashes the water into the floor,

loud,

and jabs his mop head at the floor,

hard,

while whistling a tune of that ballad song he heard this morning; it has fruit as its title, orange or banana or something. 

So Jihoon mops without care, right to left, left to right, until the sobbing man grows quiet.

Jihoon doesn't stop his duty or his tune, simply continues.

Then he hears the stall's lock clicks open; Jihoon can't help looks up to see who's behind the door.

A man with a striking green hair, shorter than Jihoon but probably around the same age. His eyes puffy and teary and doe like a puppy, but this puppy reeks of money;

if one counts how well the suit clings to his small yet fit body, Jihoon absolutely sure the black, embroidered blazer and pants are tailor-made, the fabric sent from Italy or the Queen's closet, and his loafers, so glisten, one can use it as a mirror if it's urgent, as if they haven't touch pavement or dirt at all.

The man catches Jihoon's gaze for a split second before he looks away and washes his face on the sink.

Then a ringtone, coming out of the man, jolting both the owner and Jihoon; he almost loses his grip on the mop. The man scrambles to fish the phone out of his front pocket, looking too manic and panic to answer a simple call.

Jihoon is still moping but there's no way in hell he isn't going to eavesdrop. He makes sure to fixes his eyes to the clean floor below, though, and let his ears do the dirty job.

"Mother--" The man speaks, voice a little raspy, "Mother, listen to me--"

A pause. "No, no, how many times I need to tell you that I don't want this engagement! Please, mother!" The man starts to pace around the bathroom.

After a while, "I don't care about the joint company-- and it's your company, your business, not mine! I'm just there because you told me to!"

The man stops, leans his forehead against the wall, sighing before begging, "Please, mother, I don't love her, she's just a friend, and-- and she's already got a boyfriend, she will be as devastated as I am, mother. We wouldn’t be happy together, so please--"

Another sob. "Mother-- Mother!" The other recipient seems to hang up. The sobs become more rapid and there's a sound similar to a light punch to a wall.

Phew, drama-- Jihoon thinks as he wipes a sweat trickling down his temple; yes, he finishes moping the outer bathroom floor. Next, the stall.

But just when Jihoon shifts, the man strides to enter the stall again. He almost closes the door in front of Jihoon's face but the mop man is quicker; he halts it with his gloved hand.

"Sorry, sir, but the toilet needs to get clean," Jihoon says, unapologetically.

The other looks at Jihoon bewildered and quite irritated too, even with tears, "Oh my God, can you just leave me alone and mop somewhere else?"

"No, sir, my boss will kill me if the toilet isn't spotless by the time he comes for breakfast."

"Can you just--" The rich man tries to push the door close, but Jihoon--

"Nope."

The man groans, exasperated, and storms past Jihoon, bumping the employee's arms in the process, and leans in the corner of the bathroom.

Jihoon suppresses a snort, the man really looks like a kicked puppy.

"Rough night, eh, sir."

The man gives another groan, though louder. Not his fault Jihoon is blessed with an unfiltered mouth and it is way past midnight, he needs some kind of entertainment to keep himself awake.

For example, a sobbing man with a cute face and pouty lips sinks to the floor in a corner of a McDonald's bathroom, so out of place.

Jihoon eyes him weirdly and the man takes notice, "What? I can't sit here as well?"

"We have lots of chairs outside the bathroom, sir, for your information."

"Yeah, well, can't let a crying grown man be seen in public, can we?"

Jihoon cocks an eyebrow, "True, I guess."

The rich man rolls his eyes, "Can you just pretend didn't hear anything earlier?"

Jihoon nods, still busy mopping the floor inside the stall, "Sure, but you talked pretty loud, sir, maybe next time you can try not to shout your problems."

The man lets out a dry laugh, "Wow, what a great service this branch has."

Jihoon shrugs, "Just giving you advice, sir."

The rich man grumbles under his breath, of what, who knows, Jihoon doesn't care either way. The man is none of his business, he just wants to clean in peace.

So silence, for a while.

Jihoon is done with one stall and ready to moves to another when the man, now resting his chin on his arms, propped on his knees, murmurs, "You're married?"

Jihoon turns around, "Me?"

"No, the mop."

"The mop is single, sir."

The rich man barks a fake laugh, sarcastic, though Jihoon smirks, deep down enjoying the banter with a stranger.

Jihoon brings the wet mop to the floor again while answering, "Nope, still single, sir, just like the mop."

The man hums before he is still, once more.

Jihoon steals a glance or two; the man's eyebrows fold, low and deep, and his red-rimmed eyes stare blankly ahead, beyond the bathroom and lost in thoughts.

Quite pathetic, Jihoon almost pities the man, if only he isn't one of the riches. Surely no problem cannot be solved with money and connection, so what the hell is the man sad for?

Jihoon slips out a quiet sigh and breaks the dead air, "Congrats on the engagement, sir."

The man immediately grunts, annoyed, "I thought I told you to forget what you just heard."

"Hey, just wanna give a customer a congrats."

The man huffs, "Well, I don't want it."

"The congrats?"

"The engagement! Don't pretend you forgot it now!"

"Oh, right," Jihoon slips a snicker, drawing a weak glare from the other.

Just when Jihoon thinks he's being too snarky for a lowly employee to a rich customer, then out of the blue, the other murmurs more, "It's-- it's for the sake of family business, a merge between two, and I don't want it. She's only a childhood friend and we don't love each other."

Jihoon tilts his head, confused at the sudden heart-to-heart talk, though still listening intently, even as he squeezes the murky water out of the mop and into the bucket.

"Like, her boyfriend gonna kill me for this. But Mother is so, so pushy," The man sighs, long and winded, before--

"Are you listening?"

Jihoon flinches surprise, "Uh, sure."

The man hides his face on his palms, tired, "Why do I even bother telling this to a stranger?"

But Jihoon cracks a smile; are all rich people this funny and dramatic, he ponders amused.

"Hey, if it makes you feel better, sir, go ahead, my ears are open, and also, don't forget to rate our service in the questionnaire on the table, and make sure you write my name as the best employee."

"Oh my God."

"It's Jihoon, J-I-H-O-O-N--"

"Alright, alright, geez."

"Thank you, sir."

The rich man is now fully buried in his arms, looking like a lost child even with the expensive suit on.

Okay, Jihoon yields, he feels sorry now, so he stops moping and tries to cheer things up, there's only two of them in this closed space, anyway.

Jihoon puts his chin on top of his mop, chewing his lips as he searches for wise words fit for this kind of situation. He finds none, of course, he never is a philosopher, just a McDonald's employee. So he speaks truthfully, instead.

"In my opinion, sir, your situation is not really that bad."

The rich man is quick to respond, lifting his sad face toward the other, "Really?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's not like you're gonna marry a complete stranger, you already know her."

But the man's mouth still shaped downward, like a U-Turn, so Jihoon adds, "And you both rich, sir, you can do anything you want. Buy two houses, live separately, have mistresses, yada yada yada, whatever you want--"

"There are some things money can't buy--"

"Says every person born with money--"

"You can't buy happiness or love--"

"No, but I can pay my overdue rents and that's good enough for me-- also can you move, sir? There's a floor I need to mop and it's under your designer suit that I'm pretty sure you bought it with money."

The man glowers at Jihoon, pouting harder than before, maybe offended by Jihoon's words, but it's the truth and to be fair, the pout makes the rich man even cuter.

Jihoon is actually close to losing his self-control and asks for the other's name and number.

But the man definitely takes it the wrong way as he gets up on his feet and spats, "You don't understand--"

"Of course I don't, sir, I'm poor."

"How is that have to do with anything?"

"That makes me clueless about rich people's problems."

The rich man scoffs, brushing the dust out of his pants, jaw tense and angry, "Yeah, well, clearly I'm sharing my problems to a wrong person, to a jerk. Good night."

Jihoon scratches the back of his neck, puzzled because he only offered honesty, as he watches the man stomps his feet across the bathroom. He considers a thought or two, before sighing and calls,

"Sir."

The man stops, and looks over his shoulder, frowning, "What now?"

"Can I give you another piece of advice?"

"If you're gonna undermine my feelings on the situation then it's a no."

"Uh, sorry about that, I just really don't understand--"

"Yeah, well, like I said, I shouldn't talk to you--"

"But your tears are real, sir, so."

The rich man halts his tongue. He even turns around, confronting Jihoon with arms crossed against his chest.

Jihoon plays with his mop, brushing the floor absent-mindedly as he murmurs, "Look, to be frank, sir, I would cut off my limb just to be in your shoes. You know, be dandy and rich enough to have time to worry about love and stuff instead of what I eat next week."

"But I guess--" Jihoon steadies his gaze at the rich man, smiling a little wistful, "--people have their own struggles, huh. Even the luckiest one."

The frowns are gone from the rich man's face, thank God, Jihoon thinks as the other flickers away for a moment, not meeting Jihoon's eyes, before mumbling with a hint of sorrow in his tone, "Never consider myself lucky."

"Well, you should," Jihoon grins, failing his arm to the rich man, "You're rich, you have nice shoes, and--" Jihoon pauses, observing the pretty eyes, soft cheeks, pink lips in front of him, then murmurs low, "--kinda cute."

The man frowns, "What's that?"

"Uh, I said nice suit, you have a nice suit."

"Oh. Thanks."

Jihoon clears his throat, secretly calming the rising beat of his heart, Jihoon's only a healthy young man, after all, can be easily seduced with worldly temptation and an adorable man in a suit who looks very huggable.

But Jihoon punches himself mentally before his body moves on his own and continues, "Anyway, if I were you, sir, I probably already decline the engagement no matter what."

"But the business--"

"Will be just fine. I don't know shit about anything, sir, but there's gotta be another way for companies to merge, we don't live in a drama series. Just make shit up, make a better offer."

The rich man ponders, Jihoon can hear the gears in the other's mind clicking and working.

Jihoon adds more, like oil to a fire, "I mean, you don't hear it from me, sir, but seriously, I think this is almost like your mother pushing her own agenda or something, wanting you to get married."

The rich man's eyes go wide in an instant, "What?"

"But hey, don't gotta listen to me."

Jihoon lets silence takes control, let his insights sink into the other's brain. Again, Jihoon only speaks what he thinks, the other can take it or leave it.

After a brief while, the rich man nods, as if finally accepting Jihoon's take on his drama. The mop man quickly seizes his chance, then.

Jihoon is, after all, a simple man. 

"What's your name, sir?"

The other blinks, but answers, "Hyunsuk. You're Jihoon?"

"Yup. So, Hyunsuk-nim, are you single?"

"What?"

"Like the mop?"

The rich man stutters, startled at the question, "Y-- yes. What about it?"

"And how many years you've been single?"

"What?"

"The mop wants to know, sir, it's looking for a bachelor," Jihoon suppresses a smirk and staying cool like those first-lead actors in romcom movies.

The rich man, Hyunsuk, squints his eyes, suspicious, "The mop, huh?"

Jihoon nods, even though he's one second away from bursting into laughter. He's very rusty in the flirting department, no time for love until now; only mop and money.

But Hyunsuk lets it pass, he simply sighs, shoulders slumped forward, "Yeah, too long, I haven’t dated anyone since college."

"Well, we got our answer."

Hyunsuk hums, and again, stares blankly at the floor, lost.

There's an ache inside Jihoon's chest, seeing the expression multiple times by now, and he realizes, he hates it. Jihoon prefers the angry, expressive pouts than this hollow sorrow on Hyunsuk's cute face.

If he can, Jihoon prefers something else, maybe a smile or two, though, he hasn't seen one yet.

So Jihoon takes one step forward, dragging his mop as well and asks, "Can I offer one last advice, Hyunsuk-nim?"

"Sure."

"Tell your mother you already seeing someone."

Hyunsuk raises his eyebrows, surprised, "Someone?"

"Yeah, a girl, a boy, whatever swings your way."

"But who?"

Jihoon feigns a serious, thinking expression even though he already prepares an answer, "I don't know, one of your friend or co-worker--," But then a pause, because Jihoon can't pretend more; a sly smirk slips away and graces his young face, turning eyes into crescents and cold night into warmth, 

"--or a mop man at a McDonald's."

Jihoon hides half of his face on his arm, one that holds the mop, because he's embarrassed as hell, yet his mouth keeps on yapping, "Since, you know, the mop here is still single too."

Hyunsuk on the other hand is blushing red as a tomato, from head to toe, frozen in his spot, staring at Jihoon agape and dumfounded.

Well, Jihoon can't blame the man, this might be his worst pick-up encounter ever. He just cried minutes ago, and now he's being flirted by a McDonald's employee?

What a way to spread happiness, Jihoon, Ronald McDonald must be so damn proud.

Jihoon coughs out loud, trying to save his crumbling dignity, "Just an idea, sir, to make your mother cancel the engagement. Bet she just wanna see you're happy with someone."

Jihoon turns his back on the other, distracting himself by mopping the part of the bathroom that's still untouched, "But hey, again, you don't gotta listen to me, just a mop man talking."

Jihoon hears no reply whatsoever from Hyunsuk, not even a rejection or doors being opened and closed for a long stretched of time.

And just when Jihoon is about to drinks the bucket water in one gulp and find heaven to avoid the need to walk past Hyunsuk on the way out--

"What if I want to?"

\--Hyunsuk finally speaks.

"What if I wanna listen to the mop man?"

Jihoon smiles, wide and friendly, company rules, but so fricking happy, oh, lord, as he faces Hyunsuk again;

the smaller man is still flustered, roses on cheeks, eyes glimmering but this time not from sad tears, and the best part is there's a smile on Hyunsuk's face, and just as Jihoon thought, it's much, much better than every other expression he saw on him tonight.

"Well, then, Hyunsuk-nim, I will gladly leave the mop here and wash my hands and bring you some McCafe cakes and coffees and talk more about how rich you are and how poor I am and what scheme we can create to fool your mother, and I expect you to pay for the cakes and coffees and fill that questionnaire--"

Jihoon takes a breath, too excited, then remembers, "--but--"

"But?"

"But after I clean the bathroom, my salary is at stake here, Hyunsuk-nim."

Hyunsuk gives a snort, then a laugh, "Okay, okay, mop man."

Jihoon winces, because damn, for a moment there, he almost forgot his duty, too absorbed in winning the cute man's attention to care that there's a women bathroom to mop, then the first floor's one, then--

A small hand on Jihoon's red-handled mop; Hyunsuk crosses the distance between them. It pulls Jihoon from his thoughts, pulls one to the other like pair of magnets. Fluttering his eyelashes prettily, Hyunsuk murmurs, quite timid,

"I will wait outside, then, Jihoon-nim. With that coffee and cake."

Oh, have mercy to this poor man's heart, Jihoon thinks.

He's sure no one can blame him for the butterflies inside his stomach or the tinge of disappointment when Hyunsuk steps backward and exits the bathroom, not before flashing another smile at Jihoon before disappears behind the door.

If Jihoon has been cleaning the floor tonight with vigor, well, now, he moves like a bullet train, too fast for eyes to see, because he got himself a date and no toilet or mop can stop him now.

Jihoon is a simple man with simple needs, but when an hour later, after he's done all the cleaning, puts down his cap, and still finds Hyunsuk--

waiting for him, smiling, half-sleepy full-adorable, with all his family drama and problems Jihoon can never relate but willing to learn,

then suddenly, the mop man doesn't mind a little adjustment to his goal.

Who knows, maybe the family can be checked first before the house.

Or, at the same time.

Fingers crossed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Carrd](https://teumefromthesea.carrd.co/) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/teumefromthesea) | [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/teumefromthesea)


	5. [Canon Compliant] The Map

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Canon Compliant ]
> 
> warning tags; none
> 
> first posted on January 19, 2021.

There's something about Jihoon in a white t-shirt.

There's something about the way the fabric glues to the landscape of muscle underneath, turning them into a map of unknown territory one aches to explore. 

Something about the way the stark white tee complements the bulging of pulses decorating Jihoon's vanilla-colored and scented skin like rivers on land; gradient blue and beautiful, one can't help but follow them like hikers adrift in the mountains.

Hyunsuk is one of them, hopelessly lost in Jihoon's perfect, firm figure draped in white as the eldest sits by the sofa, supposedly observe the whole group practice in detail, not his fellow leader alone.

Yet, how could he? Hyunsuk is simply a 23-years-old man with 5-years-old feelings, all buried under the soil because love is a treasure chest but Hyunsuk has no key.

So Hyunsuk tries his darndest to forget and move on with his life but again, how could he, when Jihoon has that symmetrical reverse triangle-shaped chest, wide and comfy for a two-hour cuddle, or everytime Jihoon has to carries Yoshi in the new choreography and every. damn. time. Hyunsuk has to witness the younger's biceps flexed and tighten from the maintaining the weight on his sturdy shoulder--

Hyunsuk clicks his tongue; the eldest throws his face aside, purposely stop looking at Jihoon before he can't.

"Ten minutes break!" The coach's call draws a relieved breath out of flustered Hyunsuk. He quickly grabs his half-empty purple tumbler and walks out of the dance room to refill it. Unnecessary for the tumbler, necessary for Hyunsuk's sanity.

The outside corridor is deserted, not surprising since the clock hanged on the wall point at 10.45 PM. One more hour before the kids can go home, Hyunsuk reminds himself as he watches the cold water fills the see-through bottle in his hand absent-mindedly, not really thinking about anything or anyone or someone in a white tee, standing tall and handsome, effortlessly dashing--

"Hyung."

A shadow hovers from behind, and Hyunsuk feels the heat of the other body first before the voice. Hyunsuk looks over his shoulder to find Jihoon, staring him down with an empty red tumbler on his left hand, with his damn tee, clinging like latex even though it's cotton because it wets from sweats thus it does nothing to hide the muscle definition beneath, _what the hell_ \--

"Wait a second," Hyunsuk forces his mouth to work, and thankfully it does, before turning away from the man and focuses on the buzzing dispenser. But Jihoon doesn't move away; he takes one step closer instead. Hyunsuk swears his back almost touches Jihoon's chest, his brown-streaked hair almost touches Jihoon's chin--

Hyunsuk feels too warm, two body heat merge together is too much for his pounding heart and ever-growing flushed cheeks.

Hyunsuk is panicking so he aborts his task, pull his finger and the tumbler from the dispenser, and let it be a quarter-empty because Hyunsuk's chest is already full to the brim with butterflies--

"Not yet, hyung."

But Hyunsuk can't, because Jihoon's left arm suddenly stretches at his side; locking Hyunsuk's finger in place so it stays pressing, locking Hyunsuk's smaller figure so it stays in his embrace.

"Better fill it full, hyung, so you don't run out again," Jihoon murmurs, low and too close to Hyunsuk's left ear-- the eldest simply nods because he can't even turn without risking his temple meeting Jihoon's lips.

"How's practice?" Jihoon strikes a conversation as if Hyunsuk is sane enough to hold one, but Hyunsuk tries, like he always does with everything; he grits his teeth and tries.

"Good. Everyone's ready for next week's comeback, Jihoon-ah."

Jihoon hums. "It's your turn to keep an eye on the kids today."

"Yeah."

"How about me?"

Hyunsuk freezes.

"Did I do good?" Jihoon asks, again, but his voice grows deeper, closer, and Hyunsuk is near to gulps and pants because the image of Jihoon in a white tee moved gracefully yet powerful robs air out of Hyunsuk's lungs, and now, the taller man just had to ask the breathless eldest while engulfing him from behind as if space exists only within them.

Then it drips; the water falls out from the overfilled tumbler and into the floor.

Hyunsuk wants to takes his hand back, to stop pressing the button, but the bigger hand above it doesn't move an inch, so the water keeps on pouring, making little pools near his feet. Hyunsuk is confused, so this time he shifts a little toward the man behind, "Jihoon-ah, the water--" But there are two sharp eyes waiting for the eldest, and they pierce Hyunsuk like arrows, so he can be still and follow Jihoon's will.

"You haven't answered me, hyung."

The distance between their face becomes shorter and shorter--

"Did I do good back there?"

\--and there's almost no oxygen left between them; Hyunsuk lets out a quiet gasp and Jihoon notices it, of course, and suddenly there's an arm around Hyunsuk's waist, solid and strong and how some nights Hyunsuk wishes for them to hold him tight. The arm brings their body together, pressed without proximity, pressed to that cursed white tee and body; Hyunsuk is stuck between desire and afraid like how one would feel when crossing a no man's land so he searches for an escape route but Jihoon holds him steady-- as steady as his gazes at Hyunsuk.

"Hyung," Jihoon calls, _what for,_ when his lips hover an inch above Hyunsuk.

So with the last of his breath, before his compass fails him and Hyunsuk is gone forever, the man croaks out, "You did great, Jihoon-ah."

Hyunsuk almost lets out a ' _please_ ' at the end because he can't take the intensity and intimacy shared between them anymore so he dips his chin down and focuses on the wet floor instead.

There's a tremble coming out of Jihoon; the younger chuckles small, before finally, stepping back, the same time as his hand moves away from Hyunsuk's. Without missing a beat, Jihoon turns around and walks toward the dance room, as if forgetting about the empty red tumbler in his hand, or maybe, he never has the intention to fill it in the first place.

Hyunsuk knees grow weak; the second Jihoon's back disappears around the corridor, the eldest leans against the wall, catching a breath and gulping half of his tumbler like a man in drought finally finds a way out of the forest.

Because there's something about Jihoon in a white t-shirt and how the fabric turns the man into a map, breathtaking and wild; Hyunsuk is nothing but a traveler who's fallen for its view and lost inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Carrd](https://teumefromthesea.carrd.co/) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/teumefromthesea) | [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/teumefromthesea)


	6. [Canon Compliant] Valentine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Canon Compliant ]
> 
> warning tags; none
> 
> first posted on February 14, 2021.

"Let me guess. You're fighting again."

Hyunsuk tightens his lips and looks away-- damn Raesung and his instinct.

"It's not instinct when you're so obvious, hyung." The blonde man cackles, swallowing a bite of pizza under Hyunsuk's weak glares. The older pursues his lips before gulping his Americano empty.

They're in a little cafe downtown on a quiet Sunday. Raesung is always a close friend, they hang out a lot, in the recording room or outside, but today, well, Hyunsuk had someone else in mind, supposedly sitting across him instead of his friend.

At least until that certain someone fled the dorm before noon without telling anyone and left Hyunsuk no messages whatsoever. So Hyunsuk decided to turn off his phone and played dumb. If that stupid brute called Park Jihoon didn't _care_ about today, then so will Hyunsuk.

"Dunno what you're talking about." Hyunsuk rolls his eyes and proceeds to stuff his mouth with a new slice of Pepperoni and Cheese.

The other quickly scoffs, "Oh, please, hyung. You never go out with me unless you wanna talk about something. And certainly, not on Valentine's Day."

"Oh, today is Valentine's Day?" Hyunsuk spats, bitterly, even bitter than two bland coffees combine, Raesung thinks. The younger grins amused, shaking his head. Hyunsuk curls his lips down, chewing in silence. Raesung lets him, his hyung needs time to sort out words, jumbled up inside his throat like tangled threads, one can't find the end because it's being held by someone else-- Jihoon.

A sigh, before Hyunsuk puts down what's left of his pizza. "Think he forgot. Maybe he's with his friends right now. I dunno. I don't care." Hyunsuk murmurs, low, ducking his head down; choosing to be lost in the abstract-patterned floor of the cafe instead of his mind. It is filled with Jihoon anyway, and he _hates_ it.

Raesung takes pity, patting the other's shoulder. "Just yell at him later, hyung. Don't make it into a bigger fight. You know Jihoonie is head over heels with you. I mean, he's the one who keeps asking you out even when you rejected him two times, remember?"

The memory makes Hyunsuk cracks a sheepish smile. It's been three years since barely a 20-years-old Jihoon confessed, three times in three weeks in a row. Even the other guys got tired of seeing it. Such a persistent man, the kind that makes Hyunsuk falls in love.

"Bet he got a good damn reason for missing out today," Raesung adds, giving one last squeeze to the older's shoulder before standing up.

Hyunsuk frowns, "We're going home already?"

Raesung nods, fishing out his wallet. "Yup, got an appointment with a bunch of producers for the new girl group. Come on. I'll drop you by the dorm."

Hyunsuk nods, munching the last of his pizza on the way out of the cafe. After avoiding a couple of fans with cameras on the pedestrian, the two friends finally got into a taxi and drive away.

Watching the passing metropolitan scenery mindlessly, Hyunsuk fails to notice the foreign streets until the taxi halts to a stop. The taxi isn't parked in front of the Treasure's dorm or YG building, but a secluded park, hiding between the residential area, overlooking a riverbank. Flowers bloom even amid the chilly weather as they sway with wind under the orange sky. The park is quite deserted, and Hyunsuk is just plain confused why they're here.

"Your stop, hyung," Raseung says as he crosses over the seat and opens the door for his puzzled friend.

Hyunsuk still doesn't move an inch, simply dart back and forth between Raesung and the park until his eyes spot a familiar figure in the distance, sitting alone on the bench. "Is that--"

"Hyung, I really need to get going or YG gonna bite my head off."

The young producer nudges Hyunsuk, throwing a sly grin while lightly shoving the older out of the taxi. Hyunsuk pouts cute, though can't hide the flush across his cheeks as he steps out into the streets. The taxi door closes, Raesung draws down the window and winks. "Told you he had a good damn reason." 

Before Hyunsuk can say anything, the driver steps on the gas. The taxi drives off, leaving Hyunsuk and his pounding heart.

The familiar man immediately notices Hyunsuk's presence, he's been waiting, after all. He rises from his seat and grabs the object laid next to him, hides it behind his back, before meeting Hyunsuk in the middle. 

Brunette hair's a mess from the wind, with a long coat and boots, Jihoon pulls down his black mask and gives the other a cheeky smile. "Surprised, hyung?" 

Oh, Hyunsuk _hates_ him. The older shoots a playful punch to his chest and grumbles. "Shuddup."

Jihoon reacts dramatically, as if the punch digs a hole in his body. Hyunsuk will if the younger doesn't stop shitting around and tell him what the hell is going on.  "Where were you this morning? You just gone without telling me anything!" 

Jihoon shrugs. "Thought I bought you a flower and a chocolate first before our dinner."

Hyunsuk blinks-- anger quickly dies down as Jihoon lifts a bucket of white Camellia wrapped in purple paper in front of the other's face. There is a small velvet box of chocolate and a white card slipped between the flowers.

Jihoon smirks, "I know you like cheesy stuff, hyung. I learned, you know, through years with you. That's why I got a whole night planned for us."

Hyunsuk is stunned-- heart skips a beat. Jihoon gazes at him so smugly, like he just wins a lottery and the prize is Hyunsuk. The older is so conflicted about wanting to hurls the flowers back at Jihoon's face or throws them away so he can kisses Jihoon right here and now.

"I booked a restaurant near here with nice burgers and atmosphere. After that, we can go wherever you want, hyung." Jihoon takes a step closer, still with that pompous look. He lowers his voice to a whisper-- eyes gazing tender. "So forgive Jihoonie for this morning, please?"

 _Ugh_. How dare him.

Hyunsuk throws his face away, pouting and feigning mad when deep down, inside his ribcage, thunder is rolling, hammering his heart with noises and beats, singing a tune of a man undeniably in love. Jihoon once again melts him with his persistence, and how can anyone resist?

"Hyunsukie."

The call of his name pulls him, Hyunsuk glances back at Jihoon, who's still holding that bucket of pretty, beautiful flowers, fresh and picked only for his beloved.

Hyunsuk pouts harder, because how dare him. Jihoon grins in response. "Please, Hyunsukie. Spend this Valentine's Day with Jihoonie. Pretty please?"

The younger pleads with a kicked puppy look, though the corner of his mouth quirks upward, hiding a coy grin. He knows Hyunsuk will say yes, oh, he knows, despite the sulks and silent glares, Hyunsuk is actually happy. And he's _goddamn_ right.

After puffing his cheeks in fake annoyance, Hyunsuk snatches the Camellias and turns around. "Fine! But only because I'm craving burgers tonight. Huh."

The smaller of the two start to walk away first, burying a flushed face and giddy smile as he breathes in the flowers. They smell so nice, mixed with a hint of Jihoon's perfume. The smile grows wider, up to his eyes. He does like cheesy stuff and flowers and Valentine's dates, a true hopeless romantic, what can he say.

"Hyunsukie, wait up~" Jihoon calls from behind, feet shuffling closer but Hyunsuk strides faster, maintaining the distance. No way he's going to let Jihoon sees him smiling like an idiot over a flower and a box of chocolate. He has his pride and he intends to keep it.

"Hyunsukie~"

"No, stay away!"

"Hyunsukieee~"

"Nooo!"

Today may not start well for Hyunsuk, but at least he got the Valentine's date he wanted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Carrd](https://teumefromthesea.carrd.co/) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/teumefromthesea) | [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/teumefromthesea)


End file.
